Poetry
by Animerulzs1267
Summary: England decides to get away from the break room to have some quiet time with himself but he meets someone who, much to his surprise, enjoys poetry. UKLat, Rated T.


One a sunny bright day like today, it was spent inside the large conference room. It was rather disappointing letting a nice day go to waste, but duty came first for the world to have more days to enjoy with peace. Although, not of that would be happening when all the attendees were racing out of the conference room for the break room the next hour until the next meeting.

England had already finished his first drink of tea, and as he took a bite from his scone his ears were aching from all the talk echoing around the small break room. His eyes searched around, annoyed at the level of noise the people were making. England would have liked partaking in his scones and tea with peace and quiet, not laughter and obnoxious arguments made by all the attendees causing the ruckus.

Having enough of this room, England stood up from his table and excused himself from the room. Since everyone he knew would remain in the break room for an hour, he could use the conference room for some alone time to enjoy his scones. England walked down the hallway and saw the door to the conference room was left slightly ajar, England took the doorknob and let himself in, not noticing someone else was in here as well.

Latvia, a small but intelligent nation, was sitting by himself in his seat with notebooks and pens scattered in front of him. England and Latvia caught sight at each other, letting the silence build the awkwardness until England coughed and broke the unsettling tension away.

"Oh, good morning, Lativa," England greeted the young nation with a polite tone.

"Good morning, Mister England," Lativa greeted back, a small smile spread but quickly erased itself as he frowns at his papers before him.

"Is something the matter?"

"Oh, it is nothing, Mister England, I am just tired." Lativa said, avoiding his face.

England was confused but not one to pressure someone for information, that would be rude and contradictory of his character.

"Um, Mister England?"

England glanced over to Latvia over his papers, "Hmm, yes?"

"Do...do you by chance write poetry?" Latvia asked, squirming in his seat and holding his hands together tightly. England could tell Latvia was blushing through this despite his face facing down on his notebooks.

"Oh, sometimes I take it up whenever I feel it necessary." England answered honestly.

Latvia's head raised up and looked at England with hopeful eyes. "Well, you see, I have been writing a few myself for a while now and I never in my life allowed anyone even a chance to read them. But, I was wondering if you could...I mean, if you would possibly read them?"

"Why, I would love to!" He never could say no to teaching anyone anything!

"Really? That is wonderful, Mister England! Here, I actually brought some with me."

"All right, then, let's have a look." England looked at the first page of Latvia's poem titled 'Sweet Roses'.

Although England wasn't the type to physically demonstrate his gestures based on his feelings, he felt his shoulders hunched at the cheesiness of Latvia's poem. After finishing the first one, he turned to the next poem which was called 'Romantic Gestures'...

 _Is Latvia one of those types who like sappy, romance poetries?_ England felt his stomach churned a little. He was used to serious, well-thought out poetry but he did partake in the occasional romantic poem once in a while...when he was alone, which is basically all the time...

"Well?" Latvia asked eagerly. "Do you like any I have written today?"

"I don't know what to say except...you need some more practice, but I see true potential in your writings. Have you thought of publishing any of them?"

"Oh no, I write them for my enjoyment. It's a relaxing mechanism, in a way, and I feel better when I focus on something I love."

"I have to say, these are good. If you want, we can write some together for practice if you like."

"That would be wonderful, Mr. England!"

"Please, call me Arthur." England told him, not that he wanted any establishment with being a closer relationship with him or anything.

"All right, Mr. Arthur." Latvia grinned happily.

England stared down at the smaller nation and felt a curl of a smile grace his lips. Maybe they will become good friends through this after all...


End file.
